EV- Candlelit Skies

It had been the early morning after the event in the Crevice. The news articles and programs on the net covered the events thoroughly, with supervision and reporters there to document every move in Brookfell. With the Crevice opened and the familiar but newly fused Driftwicks, and more, floating across the sky came the warning that people in those surrounding areas should not leave their homes. All for their safety, so that they would not be caught by the pokemon that seemed kind enough until their actions became malicious.

Wintervale was quite far removed from the Crevice, so a particular white-headed man wasn't aware of the dangers. The moment little sunlight passed through the deep, snowy clouds chased away the darkness of the night and the Nothing, he was headed outside onto his balcony with paints and buckets, a canvas under his arm held tightly so he wouldn't drop it. On his shoulder was a Litwick, its blue flame and its warm, waxy body providing a source of heat for him. In its arms it held his Rotomphone, loudly listening to the news as he awaited any updates on the matter. He knew of someone close to him going out there, to Brookfell-- and he dreaded to hear anything about her.

He placed the canvas on the easel, wiping away the snow on the chair positioned in front of it before sitting down. Ember, the Litwick, mumbled to itself as it watched Micah prepare his progress. The small pokemon had been with the man for quite some years now, but he was still a small enigma. Its own easygoing attitude matched his, though- so despite the unfamiliarity the two of them hit it off well.

The man, Micah, sighed to himself- placing the buckets and the paints on the tiny little tables next to him and on the ground.

"Still no news, huh? I suppose no news is good news."

He prepared the paint and took a thick, wide brush. He looked at the fibers for a little bit, before looking up at Ember.

"You'll let me know if there is, right?"

"Litwick!"

Ember happily nodded, holding tighter onto the phone. Satisfied with that, Micah turned back to the canvas and started his brush over the fabric. An underlayer, first. And then he'd paint what he was feeling. Concern, worry, anxiety- he needed an outlet. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned into a few hours. Eventually, his stomach rumbled- but his brush wouldn't stop. Ember murmured on his shoulder, trying to keep him warm in the cold outside. The sun had at least come through the clouds more, shining onto his balcony and giving them its warmth, too.

His hand shook and he dropped the brush- cursing under his breath and rubbing his hands together to warm them up. Before he could bend over to pick it up, a stringy hand had done so- holding it out for him. Micah had been halfway through a 'thank you' aimed at Ember before he realised Ember did not have such hands- nor would it even have been able to pick it up.

He whipped his head around to look at whatever handed him the brush, only to see one of the Driftwicks float in the air, still holding out the brush. It... seemed different than the reports on the news. For one, it definitely hadn't attempted to reach out and grab him- to drag him out to wherever they were dragging people to. It just seemed... passive.

Hesitantly, Micah reached for the brush and still mumbled the thank you, earning a purring sound from the driftwick before it turned to look at the canvas. Maybe it was the presence of Ember that seemed to passify the wild pokemon. It hung around them for the following hour, watching intently as Micah continued to paint. Eventually, it grabbed another one of the brushes and dragged it over the painting itself. There wasn't anything on it, but the action seemed to please it as it purred and coo'd, mimicking Micah's movements. The man himself had to push himself away a little- it was still a wild pokemon after all, and therefor unpredictable. But the sight of it actively enjoying making art- the way he did- intrigued him. He leaned forward a little, his arm on his leg.

"You're different from the ones on the news. Massively so."

He spoke in clear observation.

"You can stay here, if you'd like. As long as you don't sap my life- and you don't try and drag me anywhere. I'm quite content here."

The driftwick made more happy sounds, twirling in the air. Micah was far from someone who would deny a pokemon a home- just as long as they didn't overstep his boundaries. He had far worse companions.